there's a story in which my eyes are shut

I found this question on my nutritionist’s blog...and she’s right. The answer below the surface of weight and food is scary. My answer is simple. Why am I alone? It is so hard for me to find a person romantically and always has been.

Most of my relationships with men end in their discarding me like trash. 

New habits to try: 

The continuing theme of my therapeutic process.

The irony that Mercury is in retrograde and is considered a time to re-evaluate, not commit to new things or make major changes is not lost on me. 

I need to make changes. Career changes. Friendship changes. Relationship changes. Because I feel stuck. And being stuck can lead to being stagnant.

And stagnant is what brought me to therapy.

But sometimes, in the case of parental illness (mom), no new job on the horizon (career), and confused intuition (relationships), a girl has to establish a holding pattern in order to feel at all grounded.

Yet, I don’t want to fall back into the murkiness that is being stagnant.

My dream/desire/need is to leave everything for a year. To travel the world. To have an adventure. But...I can’t quite plan that right now. Because is it okay to quit my job? Is my mother’s health stable enough for me to leave? Do I give myself permission to walk away from a career that I spent my entire 20′s (and some of my 30′s trying to establish)?

Would an interim “short” trip help? I’ve got about a month of vacation I could use for a solo adventure...would that revive me? Do I need a retreat? An ashram? To drop my iPhone to the bottom of the sea?

Why is the question of what I want so hard to answer?

Last week I sat on a rock in front of a glacier. And took a deep breath.

And felt the energy of many wasted emotionally exhausting months leave me. I wasn’t praying or meditating, just giving my heart a moment to unclench.

You see, my heart had been hardening, clinging, grasping onto someone I likely will never get to have.

And while it is still infinitely painful, up there, on the side of a mountain, next to a glacier, I too, began to melt. And unclench.

And felt filled with joy for a moment, instead of the infinite sadness and occasional anger I’ve been having.

And in that joy sparked possibility and the normalness in myself that I had worried would not return.